


We Don't Notice Any Time Pass

by chiasmus



Series: Best Friends AU [2]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Childhood, First Meetings, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-21
Updated: 2011-08-21
Packaged: 2017-10-22 22:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiasmus/pseuds/chiasmus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Important instances in Charles' early life, from childhood to adolescence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Don't Notice Any Time Pass

**Author's Note:**

> AU in which Charles and Erik grow up together and have relatively happy childhoods. They're not romantically involved in this part, but they are stupidly in love. Title from the song "We're Going to Be Friends" by the White Stripes.

Charles meets the beginning of school with nothing short of sheer excitement. His mother advises him to make friends with the “right” people, though at almost six years old he doesn't know what that means, which his mother forgets because she spends almost no time around children. He instead latches onto the “make friends” part of her speech and stops listening.

From different functions he has met the daughters and sons of the people in his mother and stepfather's social circles, and while he likes them well enough, he doesn't feel any kind of close connection to any of them. For the most part, his predilections and quirks are opposite to the other kids. Charles enjoys the things he imagines in his head as much as the things which he actually owns. He digs around in the garden when he won't get caught and learns the names of most of their servants. He doesn't like dressing up and forgets why there are so many different forks at the larger dinners that go on forever.

Thus Charles wants to meet new people, and on the first day he hurries inside after he's dropped off and wanders his way into the wrong classroom, which then leads an exasperated teacher to escort him to the correct one. He's a few minutes early, but a majority of the students are already present and clumped into different groups. He veers away from the faces he recognizes and spots a boy sitting by himself, head bent as he scrapes something on the smooth, grained surface of his desk. Not asking permission, Charles claims the empty seat right in front of him.

“Hello. My name is Charles Xavier,” he says, because he has always been told it's polite to introduce yourself first.

The other boy's eyes snap up and narrow, not quite a scowl. He's silent long enough that Charles grows discomfited. “Erik Lehnsherr,” he says, voice with a slight accent, but different from Charles' own.

Unease passes in an instant and Charles smiles. “Nice to meet you, Erik. Do you want to share crayons?”

Erik stares, brows furrowed and a frown tugging at his lips. “I have colored pencils.”

“Then we can form a good partnership,” Charles says, using words he overheard once while his stepfather was on the phone.

“I'm used to being by myself,” Erik confesses, though he doesn't sound particularly broken up about it.

“Me too, but neither of us have to be alone anymore,” Charles decides.

–

Each day Charles sits with Erik during class, breaks, and lunch. He walks Erik to the bus. “You can ride home with me,” Charles offers after a couple weeks of this.

“I'm not supposed to leave with strangers.”

Charles' expression falls. “We're friends.”

“But I don't know your family,” Erik says.

“That's true. Maybe if my mother called yours?”

Erik considers the proposition, then writes down his telephone number. “You can try. Call before seven.”

The following weekend introductions are dispensed with and an arrangement is made for Erik to come to the Xaviers' after school on a trial basis. Charles is happy and his mother humors him, which is easy since she's never the one to look after him when he gets home from school. The addition of one more isn't a burden to her.

Erik doesn't quite believe that Charles' house is real when he first comes over. Charles insists that it is. As proof, they run around exploring rooms until they're caught and forced to do their homework. They sit in the oversized armchairs in one of the studies and play checkers. Erik comes over again the following day, and the next, this becoming the norm for their afternoons.

Erik hesitantly invites Charles over to his house one weekend. Erik's home is warm and smells like cookies. Charles doesn't want to leave, which amuses Erik and earns Charles another invitation.

–

At the end of the school year, Charles acquires a half-sister. He doesn't quite understand the mechanics of how she ends up in the family, though he reads the book his mother gives him a few times and even has Erik read it for good measure. Erik's mother notices and gives them a better, but still perplexing, explanation.

Raven is tiny and cries a lot, especially around Charles. He reasons that she must already not like him much. Towards midsummer Charles visits her room and this time she doesn't cry, but soon her wet nurse – who is also a new addition – chases him out.

“I don't think Raven hates me anymore,” Charles confides to Erik, “But I don't think she likes me either.”

“Do you remember who you liked or didn't like when you were her age?” Erik asks.

Charles thinks about it. “No, not really.”

“Then I don't think it matters,” Erik says. Charles isn't convinced, but then Erik slaps him on the shoulder and takes off running, calling back, “You're it!” so Charles has no choice but to run after him, effectively distracted.

–

The school years follow a pleasant pattern. He meets Erik in class everyday and they go to Charles' house afterward. They do their homework and read to Raven and find interesting bugs to collect. Charles befriends some of their other classmates and they go to the movies or the park or the zoo in a group sometimes on weekends depending on whose parents are available to take them.

Raven receives most of his mother's spare attention and all of his stepfather's, which combined doesn't amount to a lot. Charles would feel jealous, except when his mother pays attention to him, she doesn't seem to approve of his friends or the fact that he wants to join the soccer team instead of starting riding lessons. Erik figures out how to forge Charles' stepfather's signature on permission forms when necessary and while Charles has a vague idea this is probably wrong on some level, he's overheard his parents talking about worse when they're unaware he's listening.

–

Charles and Erik are nine when Charles realizes he's in love. He doesn't define the feeling in those terms exactly, but that's what it is. The realization comes one weekend while he and Erik are camped up on the floor of Erik's attic. Erik's mother had taken them to the beach for the day and it was just the three of them this time. Charles' shoulders itch with the telltale signs of sunburn. He lays on his stomach, head turned on his pillow so he's looking at Erik. The uneven rhythm of Erik's breathing is the only sign Erik is still awake.

“I love you,” Charles blurts out, the words rising from his heart and through his lips before he can stop them.

This rouses Erik from his half-doze and he turns, props himself on one elbow. He blinks at Charles in confusion. “What?”

Moonlight through the window illuminates the room enough for the piled boxes to cast shadows and for Erik to see the smile Charles gives him. “I wanted you to know.”

Erik eases back down, but his gaze remains on Charles. He smiles back a little – not for long, but long enough. His eyes close so he can resume his progress towards sleep. “Okay. Good night, Charles.”

The acceptance gives peace, sleep becomes less elusive. “Good night, Erik.”

–

Edie Lehnsherr isn't his mother, but she is the one Charles gives a handmade card to on Mother's Day. He gives a purchased, appropriate one to his mother, along with flowers, too, but inside all he signs is love and his name. His mother thanks him and accepts it as part of a ritual. Her smile is polite. Edie's is delighted when they give her their cards, glitter still falling off of Charles' onto the kitchen floor. Erik's is understated, but poetic in its sentiment; Charles' is overdone, but sincere in its exuberance.

–

Erik gets into a fight at school. Charles does, too, coming to Erik's defense. They wait in the office; neither of Charles' parents can't make it until later, but Edie leaves work to come down. She signs both of them out after clearing it with Charles' stepfather. They get to the car after she's given them a critical once over to make sure they weren't hurt beyond bruises and bandaged scrapes. She scolds them both on the way home, which makes Charles smile. Erik elbows him in the side as a warning. Edie catches sight of him in the rear-view mirror and asks him, sternly, why he is.

“Because you're mad at me for getting into a fight. Not because I didn't win it,” Charles says, his mind on what his stepfather will tell him later.

Edie is quiet, surprised, but then resumes what she had been saying about how there are ways to stand up for themselves other than violence, and how she doesn't want harm to come to either of them. Charles and Erik both listen, stealing glances at each other. Though Charles dislikes fighting, the bruise swelling on his right cheek and the corresponding one darkening Erik's left eye are signs of solidarity.

–

Once Raven is old enough she joins Charles and Erik on some of their excursions. Charles remembers what it was like before he had Erik as his friend, and he appreciates that both Erik and Edie welcome her readily.

They're over at Erik's house. Edie is braiding Raven's hair while Erik and Charles lay on the living room floor creating ranks of green and blue army men. The blue ones were painted by Charles and Raven to add diversity. There's a history textbook open at Erik's side and he's trying to get the battle-lines correct, though these kinds of army men weren't with Alexander the Great at Issus.

“What do you think?” Edie asks, letting Raven view the complicated network of braids in a mirror.

“I love it!” Raven exclaims, giving Erik's mother a hug before bounding over to Charles and Erik. She seizes half of Erik's army men and half of Charles'.

“Hey, don't do that,” Erik says, frowning.

“Look at my hair,” Raven says, a distraction technique.

Erik glances at her. “Very pretty. Now give me my soldiers back.”

“I think we should paint some of them orange,” she says.

“Yes, that's a good idea,” Charles agrees.

Erik sighs. “That isn't the point of this game.”

Charles grins, hopping to his feet to retrieve the acrylics and the brushes. “But we outnumber you.”

“Be careful with the paint,” Edie advises, giving them newspaper to spread on the floor.

–

Their teenage years begin, and they start to date.

Not each other, of course, but they sometimes go on double dates together. Most of the time Charles enjoys talking to Erik more than he does talking to the girl he's asked out. It's easy to think of things to say to Erik and he doesn't have to worry about making a good impression.

Charles finds a girl he likes and who likes him and he asks her to be his first actual girlfriend. Consequently, he tries to spend some of his time with her alone. He also does something to make Erik mad. Charles isn't sure what, and Erik won't elaborate, which isn't anything new. He is fluent in Erik's body language, but that only tells him Erik's state of being, not the reason for it, and Erik turns taciturn or scathing when pressed for details.

Charles and his girlfriend break up before the month ends. He expects it to be a horrible day, but Erik forgives him whatever he had done wrong. The two things balance out, tip it even into the favorable, since Charles decides having Erik mad at him was worse than being dumped.

–

Each summer Charles and Raven are forced to go with their parents to whatever place overseas his mother chooses. Normally it's only for about a month, stopping at different locations. Charles enjoys visiting new landmarks and learning new things, but he spends most of his time wishing Erik were there, highlighting pieces of information to include in the letters and postcards he'll send Erik.

This summer is different, since they've been invited to stay with relatives in England for the entire duration. As soon as the last day of school ends, they're leaving for their flight and Charles barely has time to tell Erik goodbye. It's better now that Charles is sixteen and viewed as responsible enough that he and Raven can explore by themselves without additional supervision. He had briefly toyed with the idea of begging off going at all, but he can't abandon Raven, since he remembers how dull it was before she reached an age to be good company.

Their relatives reside in Bath. Raven and Charles spend the first days exploring and Charles develops a fondness for The Circus while Raven likes harassing the people at the Jane Austen Centre. They go on day trips to London and Southampton and Cardiff, then longer weekend excursions to Edinburgh and Glasgow, Dublin and Cork. Charles takes pictures and notes, including as many bits of history as he can since he knows that's what Erik will find most interesting.

When the trip is almost over, Charles meets his stepbrother, which is an unspeakably awkward experience. Kurt invites him for the last few days so he can be introduced to Sharon. Cain lives with his own mother, a fact Charles becomes instantly grateful for within a quarter hour of meeting him. There are few people Charles takes an immediate dislike to, but Cain is evidently part of that minority. He's a bully and a cocky bastard, cut from the same mold as Kurt, but lacking his intelligence.

Charles won't be pushed around by Cain, and were they around each other longer things would probably devolve into something violent, rather than limited to verbal barbs. Those few nights are restless, filled with a constant, nagging apprehension that Charles should have one eye open so he doesn't get ambushed when he's not expecting it. He wishes he had Erik here to watch his back, but tries to shake off the pointless thought. Charles isn't a coward. He won't be intimidated, especially when there's Raven to consider as well.

Raven sneaks into Charles' room and crawls into bed with him. “I don't like Cain,” she says.

“I don't either. We'll be gone, soon,” Charles says, not hiding the relief in his voice.

“I wish I weren't related to him. You're lucky.”

“You aren't like him. You aren't really like Kurt, either,” Charles adds for good measure.

“You'll always be my favorite brother.”

Charles laughs, tries to stifle it with the back of his hand. “Thanks. You're my favorite, too.”

“I miss Erik. And Hank.”

An unseen weight presses on Charles' chest. It's been there the whole summer, but he continues to ignore it and tries to smile. “Go to sleep.”

–

None of the angst makes it into his final letter to Erik. Charles instead writes about the trip to Paris with his mother the week prior. He and Raven spent a majority of the time in the Louvre and the catacombs beneath the city while she met up with her acquaintances. He ends on a hopeful note that by the time Erik receives the letter, Charles will soon be back and visit him straightway.

–

Charles doesn't bother to unpack before he's getting in his car and heading to Erik's. He forgets to call ahead, but he mentioned already when he'd return and coming over, so he's hoping that suffices. He has arrived by the time he seriously second guesses himself, so he gets out and knocks on the front door.

Edie answers, dressed in her scrubs and keys in one hand. “How good to see you, Charles,” she says and envelopes him in a warm hug, which he returns gladly. “I'm afraid Erik isn't back from his date yet, and I'm on my way out to work. You are of course welcome to stay.”

Charles' heart sinks in disappointment. “Thank you,” Charles says. He's tempted to leave, but he decides against it. “I think I will.”

Edie smiles and shoulders her bag. Charles moves aside so she can leave. “There are leftovers in the fridge, if you're hungry. We'll catch up later.”

“Of course. Have a good night at work,” Charles says, waving as she departs.

A quiet peace permeates Erik's house rather than the abject stillness which settles over Charles' when almost empty. Not hungry, Charles goes upstairs to wait in Erik's room. Irrational anger, bordering betrayal, almost turns him back with each step. He spent the summer missing Erik, writing to him like he always did. Erik never responded; Charles _tried_ to not expect anything, but he had still hoped.

Erik's room remains the same aside from a new stack of books on the corner of Erik's desk. He reads the titles, the words slipping out of mind like they're in a language he can't comprehend. He wonders if Erik missed him at all. If Erik even bothered to read anything Charles sent him. Had Erik been the one to spend the entire summer away, Charles would have been around to at least greet him when he returned. Not out on some date.

There's a sweatshirt he accidentally left at Erik's back in May. It was his father's, recently discovered in one of the storage boxes that Charles had started ripping into whenever he was particularly angry at his mother or stepfather. Charles isn't sure why this comes to mind now – the weather is too warm to call for extra layers – but he starts to look for it to pass the time. Erik may grow angry when he returns and discovers that Charles has gone through his things, but it's his fault for not being there. This is the excuse Charles tells himself.

What Charles finds instead is all of the letters and postcards he's ever sent to Erik put away in the bottom drawer of Erik's bureau. They're worn, not from carelessness but from being (presumably) read and refolded. He starts to go through them, and discovers not just the ones from this summer, but from all the summers past. Resentment drains from Charles and leaves him empty, foolish.

“What are you doing?” Erik asks, tone sharp.

Charles tenses, ready to justify his actions, even as his face remains hot with embarrassment. The combination is strange. His stomach flops and he drops the letters back into the drawer, though a stubborn voice reminds him that he isn't trespassing upon Erik's privacy, considering he composed them in the first place. “Waiting on you.”

Erik folds his arms across his chest and walks the rest of the way into his room until he stands in front of Charles. He's grown a little since Charles last saw him, which is unfair since that was only a few weeks ago. “By going through my things?”

Charles' gaze meets Erik's. “You've never been bothered by it before.”

“You've never done it behind my back before,” Erik says, pausing a second for maximum effect, then adds, “Have you?”

The suspicion that laces the question hits like a punch to Charles' midsection. He deserves it, but it still hurts. “No, of course not.”

“Then don't start doing it now,” Erik says, tone flat.

Charles nods, but doesn't verbally agree. Either Erik will trust him not to, or he won't. Considering the matter settled, Charles changes the topic. “Your mother said you were out on a date.”

“I was.”

“Some welcome back,” Charles mutters.

Erik frowns, pins a glare on Charles. “You can't expect me to sit around and do nothing whenever you're away.”

Charles matches him frown for frown, glare for glare. “I told you I would be back today.”

“No, you didn't.”

“Yes, I did. I wrote it to you.”

Erik's lips compress into thin line, head tilted to one side and eyes shuttered as he regards him. Charles has learned it as an expression picked up from Edie when Erik's trying and failing to conceal his impatience. “The last letter you sent said you had been to the Blarney Stone, but didn't kiss it.”

“It was the letter after that one.”

“There wasn't anything else,” Erik insists.

“I sent it.” Didn't he? Charles remembers writing it, addressing it, and putting it in the envelope. He remembers needing to buy the postage. He can't remember if he actually did.

“That doesn't change the fact I didn't receive it.”

Charles can't come up with a response to that. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes the letter may _not_ have been put into the mail. Cain's visit had been around that time. “Oh.”

Erik shakes his head, unimpressed. “So, because you think I was blowing you off, you decided to rummage through my room.”

Charles shifts his weight from one foot to the other, uncomfortable. “I was looking for the sweatshirt I left behind the last time I was here.”

“Are you cold?” Erik asks, doubtful.

For an excuse, it isn't a good one, but it is true. “No, but I wanted it.”

“And it couldn't wait.”

“It's my Dad's,” Charles admits, biting his lower lip.

That defuses Erik and tension drains from him. The matter of fathers is unsteady ground for both of them. Neither of them has more than scattered fragments of memories to hold onto, so whenever it's brought up they each immediately become sensitive to the other through some unspoken agreement.

“I wore it a little while after you left. I didn't know,” Erik says, chagrined, even though it's Charles' fault for not mentioning any of this from the start. It's about the only time Erik won't hold Charles accountable when Charles is in the wrong. Erik will think he just should have known.

“That's okay,” Charles says. The words provide the realization that he's sincere, not placating.

“I'll wash it,” Erik says, moving towards his closet. “I know it's in here –”

Charles interrupts him, “It's really fine. You don't have to find it now.”

Erik pauses, seeming on the verge of digging through his clothes anyway. Ultimately, he says, “I'm glad you're back safe.”

“Are you?” Charles asks, because he's not yet a good enough person to leave well enough alone.

There's wariness to Erik's tone, but it lacks the earlier sting. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You never wrote back,” Charles says, defeated, though he isn't sure by what.

Erik rubs the back of his neck. “You sounded like you were busy having fun.”

Charles can't look at him any longer. “I still wanted to hear from you.”

“I didn't think it'd matter.”

“It always does.”

They both fall awkwardly silent after that. Erik's shoulders sag and Charles steps close enough that he can hug him. It's not something he does often anymore, but Erik still doesn't reject him. Instead, this becomes one of the rare instances where Erik reciprocates. His arms wrap around Charles' waist and his chin comes to rest atop Charles' head. There's the faint trace of cigarette smoke and sweat, the more prominent scent of Erik's aftershave. Charles leans into his warmth, eyes closed and fingers grasping the thin fabric of his T-shirt.

This, at last, puts Charles' heart back in the right place. He feels like he's home.


End file.
